vic!!

♡ - fluff / comfort . Ꮺ - angst / hurt. ✩ - smut / suggestive. ୨୧ - crack / humor.

›› NCT DREAM

── .✦ lee jeno after party Ꮺ

── .✦ lee donghyuck yellow cars ♡ ୨୧

── .✦ zhong chenle bad day ♡ bikini shopping ♡ ୨୧ getting to know each other ♡ hot when not grumpy ♡ playing dumb pt.1 Ꮺ playing dumb pt.2 ♡ (not) so subtle ♡ little chenle ♡ ୨୧ home ♡ Ꮺ

── .✦ park jisung comforting you ♡ pathetic ✩

›› RIIZE

── .✦ lee chanyoung teasing ✩

now you’re walking through the poorly lit streets. it wasn’t of help that you didn’t bring your glasses, and that silent tears were starting to blur your sight.

…

chenle was just gazing at the sky. he had always admired its quiet beauty. his friends told him that he was crazy. you know the moon and stars won’t go anywhere, right? they never really understood.

he didn’t care about having neck pain from looking up for so long every night. they deserved it. the moon and starts deserved to be looked at, and he always thought people didn’t appreciate them enough.

…

you didn’t even know where you were going at this point. but you didn’t care… as if you could see anything at all. your feet kept moving as your thoughts kept racing.

all of a sudden, your body collides with something. you open your eyes, you couldn’t tell if you hit a tree or someone’s parked car.

before you could even figure it out, you heard someone nervously trying to get your attention. “oh god. are you okay?” you feel dizzy from the fall. the first thing you do is to look down at your knees that are now bleeding. and without even looking up to whoever you just crashed into, you break down.

“let me help you” you hear him say with a shaky voice, as he hooks his arms under yours to lift you up. you weakly stand on your feet again, still crying heavily. he guides you to a bench nearby, hissing when the back of your thighs touch the cold material. he quickly and without hesitation, takes off his jacket and signals you to stand up for a bit. he puts it under you and makes you sit on it, but that didn’t make you feel any better.

he stood still, scared. you were crying so much… did it hurt that bad? “wait here—i’ll find something to patch you up.” he jogged to the nearest drug store that, thankfully, was just across the street. he hated that he had to leave you alone, even for that brief moment.

you finally managed to look up when he left, calming yourself down and wiping your tears. you could see him going in and out of the store from time to time, to check that you were still there. you would’ve laughed at his worried expression if you weren’t feeling so bad right now.

in the blink of an eye, he was crouching in front of you, setting everything up to treat your scratched knees. “i’ll clean them up first with one of these,” he says, lifting up a packet of antiseptic wipes. “and then cover them up with this” he adds, holding up a roll of gauze. you looked at him quietly, hiccups slipping out now and then, as he softly explained every step.

until now, he hasn’t been able to look at your face for long, afraid you’ll catch him staring, even though he wasn’t doing anything bad. he just wanted to see how you were feeling without having to ask.

while he carefully wipes your scraped knees, you try to look away, hoping to trick your brain into not feeling the pain. that’s when he’s able to actually look at you, studying your expressions closely. and he finally realized you weren’t hurting much from the fall—it was something on your mind that was really weighing on you.

but of course, he didn’t dare to ask. why would you tell him, out of all people? so he decided to ask what he should have asked a long time ago. “what’s your name?” he sits next to you, wanting to look at you but also not wanting to make you feel more vulnerable than you probably already do.

“i’m y/n” you say weakly, as if the crying has worn you out. he smiles, and for a moment, you think you’ve never seen a smile so genuine. “i’m chenle.” you tilt your head, eyebrows drawn together as you try to sound it out. “chen…le?” you say in broken chinese, even though you didn’t know that’s what it was. he chuckles, finding the way you said it endearing.

you spend quite a while trying to figure it out. he’s surprised you’re actually trying to learn how to say it—as if you’ll need it sometime in the future. as if you’ll get the chance to say his name again. you try again—he nods, and the moment you realize you got it right, you smile. it’s the first time he’s seen you do that.

“can i walk you home?” he says as softly as he can, not wanting to sound like a creepy guy at all. “no… it’s okay, i’ll stay here for a while.” “please, let me. i won’t be able to sleep if i know i left you here.” “i don’t want to go hom—to my house” he now understands it all. “then i’ll stay with you until you feel like going back.” “what if i never want to?” you murmur, not looking at him, as if it was something to be ashamed of. “i don’t mind staying here forever.”

and he actually did. he stayed with you, teaching you about the moon and the stars to keep your mind off the tight feeling he could only imagine in your chest. you listened until there was nothing left to say. he never thought he’d run out of things to say about them.

you’ve both been outside for a while now, your head nodding forward every few seconds. “okay, fine. maybe it’s time to go” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. he gets to his feet and extends a hand, waiting for you to take it.

you both walk quietly toward your house. and somewhere along the way, you realize: your knees still hurt—but your heart doesn’t anymore.

“will i ever see you again?” he says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “is that what you want?” you ask, trying to appear nonchalant—but somehow, it comes out like a mix of surprise and hopefulness.

you notice how he starts to blush. “yeah… uhm—i mean, i’d like that… if that’s what you want, too” he says, nervously scratching the back of his neck. you nod with a shy smile. “that’d be nice.”

he couldn’t help but to sigh in relief when he heard you. he wondered how your voice would actually sound, without the remnants of crying your heart out. he was excited to hear you say his name again, hoping that next time, it would be a voice full of joy.

that was until haechan brought up your name to the conversation. this was one of the usual subjects when they hung out without jaemin. of course, he didn’t know about it, and neither did you.

“have you seen how good she looks in that checkered mini skirt? and oh my god, that white top…” he runs his hands through his face as if that proved his point further.

you would’ve easily brushed off his observation if it wasn’t for the fact that he described your outfit to perfection. there was no way he wasn’t talking about you.

“yeah yeah, but my favorite has to be that red bikini of hers” chenle says confident. after his comment, you heard everyone else humming in agreement.

when did they have the time to look at you so attentively today?… when did they have the time to look at you at all?

they kept debating about you, and you weren’t even mad. you were genuinely curious… amused, even. they were so loud too… were they hoping you would catch them?

you stayed in the kitchen, just to listen their thoughts getting dirtier. until you hear jisung’s hesitant voice. “don’t say things like that guys” five pairs of eyes look at him as if he was ridiculous “…it’s not okay” he continues, growing less confident—if he ever had confidence to begin with.

“don’t be a pussy, you must be the one that thinks about her the most” jeno chuckles. “that’s… not true” he mutters with a frown. you can’t see it, but you hear it in his voice—he feels called out.

jisung couldn’t bear listening to them anymore, so he muttered an excuse to leave. “i’m going to grab some water.” he says quietly as he stands. no one responds, too caught up in their debate. but when he reaches the kitchen he sees you there, leaning against the counter, and he freezes.

“i heard you defending me back there… thank you” you say, snapping him out of his shocked state. “n-no problem, yn… they shouldn’t talk about you like that.” he grabs a glass and fills it with water, trying to keep up his little act. he’s nervous—like you somehow know he is no better than them.

you put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly and he can’t help but shiver just from that. how cute. his reaction makes you smile, and you decide to tease him a little. you get closer to him and take the glass off his hands.

he is tall, but not intimidating at all. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him against you. “w-what are you doing?” he asks surprised at the sudden hug.

“nothing…” you feel his body stiffening so you pull away, just enough to look at him “i just wanted to thank you” you say innocently. “you don’t have to, really…”

“i want to…” the softness of your voice doesn’t feel right to him but he doesn’t question it. you let out a soft chuckle when your palm lands flat against his crotch. the gasp that escapes him is so loud, he fears the others heard it.

“oh? you are hard, jisung” his eyes widens immediately. he wants to say something—to deny it, but how could he? you’re literally feeling it under your hand.

“have you been defending me while being hard yourself?…” you pause for a second to squeeze his shaft over his pants, earning an embarrassingly high-pitched whine “or did i make you like this just now?” when he glances up and sees the amusement in your eyes, he feels a wave of shame making his chest tighten.

“i- i am not-“ he stutters, trying to find the perfect excuse. you caress his cheek with a smile—almost understanding. “don’t bother in answering, ji…” but your tone quickly turns mocking. “both of them are just as pathetic”

“i’m sorry, i- i swear i’m not like them” he says quietly, as if he wasn’t allowed to be louder. “oh i know you are not” you reach for his hair, tangling your fingers in his locks.

“you’re the only one that keeps lying to himself” he doesn’t know what’s happening—how he got in this situation in the first place... but he can’t bring himself to stop you from whatever you’re doing right now. “why don’t you tell me what you think of me, hm?”

he looks at you with wide eyes—speechless. you, tired of his unresponsiveness, grab his hand and kiss it softly. at first, just pecks on the back of it. but you wanted more of a reaction—more of those whines you knew he could make. so you start taking his fingers into your mouth.

“w-what if someone sees” he glances at the door a few times, then fixes his eyes on your mouth—where his fingers disappear inside. you just hum and keep going, sucking eagerly.

it hurts when the pressure builds in them, like they might explode. but somehow, it feels good. he wonders what it would feel like on his di—

he closes his eyes tightly, cursing at himself for his thoughts. how can he be thinking those filthy things? he swore he wasn't like them… but isn’t he the same, actually?

once again, you snap him out of his thoughts when you pull away. his gaze now locked on his spit-covered fingers. “my brother will be here soon, so i’d suggest you take care of that quickly…” you say, patting his hip.

“you wouldn’t want your friends to see that bulge in your pants, right?” you softly fix his hair and smile before making your way back to your room.

everything was peaceful until you feel a ball hit your back. you turn around to see a boy smiling sheepishly. his smile drops as he notices you look older than him, and almost stuttering he says: “i am so sorry”

you suppress a chuckle, trying to appear intimidating. he looks like he’s barely 15 years old. how cute. you sit up while the ball bounces away. “were you playing basketball?” you say a little confused. “well, yeah” he says ponting to his curry jersey with a proud grin. “where do you score though?” “you don’t want to know, really…” he looks away from your narrowed eyes as he scratches the back of his head, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain.

another boy approaches you two, with the ball in his hands. “hey, you almost did it this time!” he says excitedly. “shut up, haechan” the first boy replies clenching his teeth and sending him glares. “what are you talking about, haechan?” you say smiling.

he now looked scared, but he knew he couldn’t lie. “we were trying to score… on your tent” he says lowly, praying for you not to hear him. “oh thank you, haechan, for telling me” you don’t stop smiling… as if you were going to kill him, he would say. but he couldn’t care less… every time he heard your name go through your lips, he shivered.

meanwhile chenle just stood there, wanting for you to call his name too. “my- my name is chenle… by the way” he speaks up. you look at him for the first time in a while. “oh, we are saying our names now…” you say amused. “i’m yn. i hope you find another place to score from now on… chenle” and just like that, his eyes opened widely.

he wasn’t expecting you to actually say his name. he didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling, but he sure knew he wanted to experience it a thousand times more.

for the rest of the summer, he purposely suggested to play basketball near your usual spot. he didn’t want to throw the ball directly at you like the first time, but he definitely wanted it to fall near you.

and when that happened, he shouted “i’ll go get it!”. he never really bothered to see if anyone else was going to catch it, no one ever wants to.

whenever it was time to get it, his eyes would go straight to you, gaze lingering for a moment before running back to his friends.

it didn’t take long for the other boys to realize it wasn’t the ball chenle wanted to catch every time it bounced away—it was your attention.

he lifts his head, replacing his chin for his hands, massaging your back softly. “let me know if you need help” he says casually. “we are majoring completely different things though…” you chuckle at his nonsense. “still, ask me. i’m sure i can investigate about it and try to solve it” and just like that, he left you stunned in the living room. when did he start to be so considerate? … jaemin chuckles as chenle sneakily starts placing his own strawberries on your plate. you suddenly look down while he’s at it “are you trying to steal my strawberries?” you ask. he freezes, spoon hovering midair and his mouth slightly parted. “he was actually giving you his” jaemin smirks as he gives him a knowing look. “aw you’re so sweet, thank you” you look at him with a warm smile. “uh… y-yeah, no problem” he mutters scratching the back of his neck while his eyes dart away. … “what was all that?” you ask him as you walk to your shared apartment. “what was what?” he says acting clueless, but his sulky demeanor gives him away. “i dont know, maybe the way you tried to so subtly separate me from hyuck before?” “oh, that…” he takes a deep breath and continues “i just thought he was getting a bit too touchy” he tries to sound nonchalant. “why do you care though?” “just… can you not do it in front of me? or not at all” he mumbles the last part, pouting slightly and hoping you won’t catch it. … but as time went on, it became more obvious— more annoying. you were running late, your stuff everywhere. “chenle have you seen my blush?” he lifts his head to look how you sprint to the bathroom. he gets up from the couch to help you find it. weird. even if he knew where it was, he would normally just let you find it by yourself, enjoying the sight of you stressed. but surprisingly, not today. “you mean this one?” he says holding it in his hand for you to see. you peek your head out of the bathroom to check. “yes! that one, thank you so much” you say running back to him. “you know, a ‘thank you’ is not really enough” he cooes with that evil smirk you know so well and you sigh. of course he would be like that. “i don’t have time for this, just give me it” you jump, trying to grab it but he’s holding it out of your reach. somehow, in one of your landings you slip and that makes you lose balance. he is quick to hold you by your waist, preventing you from falling. but again, you end up being too close to him. “careful there, y/n” he squeezes your sides before letting go. a beautiful pink hue now starting to rise in your cheeks. “there, you dont need it anymore” he smiles innocently. … so you finally decided to ask him. “chenle, what’s going on with you?” you say serious, wanting to know why had he been acting weird this whole time. “okay fine! i like you” “oh, i thought you were just trying to find innovating ways to annoy me” he gives you a deadpan look. “i take it back” you laugh but he is already leaving. “wait! let me tell you that i do too at least!” you yell as you run after him.

the event was quickly over, and you thought you were never going to see him again. but then, a selected amount of models were told to stay to celebrate.

when you heard both, you and jeno, were invited to the after party, a strange feeling lingered in the pit of your stomach, one you couldn't fully comprehend. maybe… excitement?

however, everything began to fall apart and, for no apparent reason, anxiety started crippling through your body. you made your way to your resting room, hoping no one would notice your racing heart or your struggle to breathe.

he was looking for his own room when he saw you running into yours. he got closer to the now-closed door, sobs could be heard from the other side. he was hesitant on knocking but he couldn’t just leave… he knew it was you.

you guys have never talked before, but he felt some sort of affinity… maybe it was the fact that he could see himself in you. he would constantly look up to you, admiring you from afar— he noticed you were always with company but somehow, always alone.

he finally decided to knock, and you still don’t know why, but you let him in… as if you knew he was the one behind the door.

jeno was used to a fast life— he had never waited for anything before. that’s why he surprised himself when he sat with you, quietly staying by your side until your tears subsided.

you knew how to appear composed at all times, even when you were hurting… but something about him made it easier to let it out.

you finally let your facade fall. the walls around you, the ones you’ve been building for years to survive in this industry, became useless the second he walked through that door, cracking them with the slighest of his efforts. and you should have been mad for that.

but you weren’t, not at all. you were grateful. you’ve built them yourself, yet you’ve always wanted someone to tear them down… to break through them.

you will always remember his expression when he held the door to let you get out first, catching your little, but meaningful, bow. “i'm not that formal, you don't need to be so proper with me.” that was the first time you saw his signature moony-eyed smile, and you couldn’t help but wanting to see it again and again.

...

for the next week, you kept meeting each other at events… and afterward as well, often finding yourself between the silky blankets of his room. jeno loved to shower you in compliments in his own unique way and with a smirk plastered on his face. “i’ve seen you on tv… you’re even more stunning in person” … “i respect your stylist but you would look better without that dress.”

but there wasn’t only lust behind his words… behind your relationship. there was a genuine connection… a mutual reliance. you learned how to open up. he learned how to be patient.

you both knew it wouldn’t last long. but coincidences like this only happens once. and that night, a silent promise was made— to enjoy this… whatever you two had, while it lasted.

...

“what did you see in me?” he mutters, resting his forehead on yours. “you are different. i know being here makes you sad too” you whisper caressing his cheek. he wonders how have you figured him out that fast. and it was simple... between so many differences, you guys were the same. different backgrounds, same lonely life.

and when the time came, you both didn’t want to let go. you wanted to open up to him for the rest of your life. and he wanted to only be patient with you. but the jobs you two had never understood forever.

after that night, you took your separate ways. he went back to look up to you from afar, hoping that you’d finally find a way to be okay by yourself. he can see you smiling more calmly… you know how to listen to what you feel now.

no more private after parties, no more fashion shows. now you’re always alone, but you don’t feel alone— you’re enough.